Clove
by amazinglilli
Summary: This is the untold story of Clove, the female District 2 tribute from the 74th Hunger Games. All her life she dreamed about competing in the Hunger Games, to bring back honor, wealth, and pride to her district. Through this story you will see the games from her point of view and experience life, death, love, pain, and bravery through her eyes.
1. Chapter 1

I open my eyes in a flutter as they adjust to the light shining through the window. It's a bright summer day, the perfect weather for a reaping. I slowly sit up and brush the hair off my face. The air is lightly dusted with fragments of debris. Everything is silent, until my mother walks in.

"Are you up?" she asks opening the door a crack. The expression on her face is priceless. Her smile so wide you could fly a hovercraft through it. "I'm just so excited. I'm going to be the mother of the 74th Hunger Games victor!" she squeals. This is so my mother. She always gets too over excited about everything. Her voice is so high I swear it could break glass if she cared enough to try. It's things like this that make me glad I'm more like my father.

"It's not official yet. I mean, what if I get picked and someone else take my place," I say frowning. I know the probability of that happening is little to none, but the idea still irritates me. How dare someone do that anyways? I have been working for this since I was ten years old and everyone knows it. I even have the highest score ever seen in our district at throwing knives. The games were made for me.

"Oh, don't be silly! Even the older ones know not to mess with my Clove," she says setting down my breakfast tray and handing me my towel with a grin. "Now go take a bath. We don't want the cameras to catch you looking anything but perfect!"

"Okay, see you when I get out," I say grabbing a slice of banana spread with cottage cheese from her hand and walking into the bathroom. I shut the door and walk over to the tub, turning on the water. I drop my towel onto the ground with a plop and test the temperature coming out from the faucet to make sure it's warm.

As I look at myself through the mirror hanging over the sink my entire body tenses up. _So this is it,_ I think to myself. _This is the day that begins the rest of my life._ The whole idea is nerve racking, but I know better than to let it get to me. _I can do this. I'm going to do this. Nothing is going to get in my way. Nothing._

As I step in the tub the warm water surrounds me and relaxes every muscle in my body. Every worry I had just seconds ago ceases to exist. The lavish scent of melon engulfs my hair, covering every strand. I rub the sponge against my skin and every inch it touches becomes soft as silk. I sit there a minute, but eventually lift myself out and dropping my feet onto the floor.

When I walk back into my room a dress is laid out for me on my bed. I smile. It's a lavender purple thinly strapped dress with a fluffy skirt that starts at my hips, making me look slimmer than i really am. The material is so light it feels like air on my skin. I sit down on the edge of my bed and slip on a pair of simple black heels before exiting the room.

My mother and father sit on the couch in the main room looking through the window. As soon as I enter, they turn towards me, my mothers cheeks stained with tears.

"Oh, you look so beautiful," she gushes giving me an unneeded hug.

"Thanks," I say.

"Come here," she says whipping a tear off her face. "Let me do your hair."

I walk over to the kitchen chair and sit down making sure to cross my legs and push my hair behind my shoulders. Her gentle hands tentatively grip my long locks and begin to braid the sides of my hair until both braids join in a sleek ponytail guaranteed to put every other to shame. She walks back around to my face holding a brush dipped in ink. She seemingly wipes it across my eyelids creating a fierce competitive eye. She then grabs the bottle of red home made finger polish and dashes it across every nail, giving the impression that they were dipped in blood.

The polish is a family heir loom all in itself. Back in the dark days when the traitors of the Capitol rose up my great-grandmother used to add snake poison to her polish and strike her enemies with her deadly tips if necessary. This tradition has been passed on since then to my grandmother, mother, and now me. They won't do much for me in the arena because by then my stylist will have done over my nails, but for now it will give me a little piece of home.

"Oh, look at you," she says stepping back to admire her work. "Everyone in the square will be jealous."

"I can't believe my Clove is the going to be the 74th victor!" my father says picking me up and spinning me around the room. He only puts me down when he glances at the clock. It's one o'clock. Time to go.

"Well, you better get going. We'll see you before you get on the train," she says nudging me towards the door.

* * *

My shoes scuff against the stone road as I join the mob of people. Reaping day is always crowded. With all the parents taking their kids pictures, the shop keepers selling last minute items, and racketeers placing bets on the upcoming tributes there's barely enough space to breathe. By far it's the most important day of the year. When I get into the square many of the shopkeepers are shutting down their stores, but I quickly sneak in and grab a raspberry chocolate for good luck. They're my favorite.

When I walk out of the store I am guided towards the check in table. Six lines form leading to a table of Capitol officials. When I finally reach the front a woman in all white gestures for my hand. I offer it to her timidly, knowing what's to come. A needle pricks my finger and an electronic shiver runs down my spine. Crimson blood drips down my finger and I can see a trail of droplets from those that came before me as I continue to walk to my age group. The number of people in the square seems bigger than last year, though maybe that's just because this year I've got more to lose.

I stand on the stone floor making a tune with my feet when someone taps me on the shoulder. It's Terra. She wears a plain black dress, her hazelnut hair resting in deep waves around her face. Her lips are lined with pale pink gloss right beneath her prominent freckles, just enough make up to make her sea foam blue eyes pop. She looks beautiful. She always does. Ever since we were little. I've always been the fearless one and she's always been the pretty one. Not that I'm not pretty, but just not in the way she is. She has that effortless natural beauty that almost anyone would kill for. She has everyone wrapped around here finger, where as I have had to work for everything I have. Maybe that's why we're friends though, because we are so different. She has her things and I have mine. We never seem to bump heads much.

"So, are you nervous?" she asks me.

It's a valid question, yet somehow I take it to offence.

"No," I say back hoping she can't tell that I'm biting on my lip. It's my automatic tell sign and she knows it. So I lied. It's not like I haven't before. To tell the truth would be to show weakness, and I'm to close to do that now. "How about you?"

"Oh, no. I've got nothing to worry about. No matter what happens your going, not me," she says resting her hands on my shoulder. "You've got this in the bag." She smiles at me and moves back to her spot.

Just as she returns to her spot the entire square goes silent. The reaping is about to begin. I hold my breathe, hoping that it will stop anyone from seeing how nervous I am. The entire stage in front of us begins to sparkle and the anthem starts to play as the doors open from the Hall of Justice to let out all the district two officials. Mayor Apex steps out of the doorway first, his greased bleach blond hair almost shimmering in the sunlight. He wears a deep green tweed suit with a black bow tie and satin top hat. His face smoothly shaved special for the reaping. Next are our past Hunger games victors, my future mentors for the games. Enobaria wears a sleek black jumpsuit, her razor sharp teeth displayed in a fierce smile. Brutus doesn't follow short behind her, his bald head acting like a mirror when hit with the suns bright rays. His muscles look so big they almost poke out of his suit. About five others trail behind them, their faces too similar to point out who is who. Lastly comes the district two escort, Persephone.

Persephone is recognizable as usual. Her fashion choices always seem to make a lasting impression. She has been our escort for the last four years, at least. Her stick straight bright purple hair and blunt bangs look almost metallic as she pushes her locks behind her shoulder. The sun almost seems to crack it as she turns her head, positioning her rear on her seat on the stage. She wears a floor length white gown, spewing multicolored feathers from it like a birds wings. The giant white bow on her head also exploding with the extensive use of feathers.

Once everyone has sat down and the anthem ends Mayor Apex walks over to the podium and pulls out his speech cards. They're the same thing every year so I don't know why he hasn't memorized it yet but I guess he doesn't want to mess up. Rumor has it that the last man who did was hung. Of coarse it was before I was born but some people still whisper about it from time to time. He begins to tell us the history of Panem, and by extension, the story of the Hunger Games.

"It was many centuries ago when the world as people knew it ended and the world we know today began. Water consumed the continent North America and from it a new nation rose from the ashes, Panem. One large Capitol city surrounded by thirteen districts that all lived in peace and prosperity. Until the dark days." He pauses, flipping over his card. "War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, and motherless child's. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, solely won. The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost, when the traitors were defeated we swore as a nation that we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of generosity and forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future." He takes a long deep breathe and sighs. "Now to carry out this extraordinary honor is our escort, Persephone, all the way from the Capitol!"

Persephone rises from her seat and slowly walks to the podium. Her heels making a pitter patter sound as the spikes on her shoes hit the ground. When she finally arrives at the stand she taps the microphone and clears her throat. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds ever be in your favor." She pauses letting her voice raise another octave. "Now the time has come to select one courageous man and woman for the honor of representing District 2 in the 74th annual Hunger Games. As usual, ladies first," she says in her Capitol accent.

As her hand drops into the bowl my heart stops. Everything seems to be running in slow motion. Her fingers swivel around in the bowl until she picks one of the perfectly folded cards. She slowly peels off the sticker and opens up the card, revealing the perfectly written name to her pale sage green eyes. My entire destiny now rests in her hands. She quickly scurries back to the podium and reads it out loud.

"Mirabel Doe"

* * *

****A/N: First off I would like to say that I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters within the stories by Suzanne Collins. ****

**Well, I hope you all liked it! Please review! I love my fans and I would love to know what you think**** (don't worry about being harsh, I love constructive criticism). I am always trying to improve my writing in any way possible so PLEASE REVIEW. ****Also, I tend to reuse some of my minor characters in other fan fictions so you can have more of a back-story or feel of the character that you don't necessarily get from just one of them so if you want to find out more just check them out. **

**If you like this story then I suggest you ****check out my fan fiction(s): Flightless birds or Innocent In Water**

**I love my fans so spread the word and never give up what you love. Fan fiction for life! :) -amazinglilli**


	2. Chapter 2

The girl's face goes blank. She's only three people away from me. Despite the cheers from the crowd, she's scared. I remember her from school a couple years ago. We may have talked a little when we were younger. She used to be like me, strong and brave, until her brother got picked. I remember that day like the back of my hand.

It was the 70th Hunger Games reaping and he was 18 years old. It would have been his last year. He was strong, muscular, and emotionless when faced with fear. He was perfect for the games, and I guess that's why for the first time in six years no one volunteered for him. Everything went well until the second week in the arena. He had teamed up with three of the other strong tributes, but their alliance was becoming a little uneven. They still had five tribute left before killing each other off but tension grew high and was too much for him to handle. In the middle of the night he snuck away into the woods and killed himself. Nothing else was going on in the games at the moment so the entire thing was televised, his paranoid rant against the games, a reflection of his life choices, and a goodbye to his family back home. The games had driven him mad beyond anyone's imagination. Then when he finally calmed down he grabbed his knife and slit his throat. To this day there still hasn't been another suicide in the games, and I doubt there ever will be.

After that the entire Doe family fell into a scene of depression. At first you couldn't see it but eventually it was hard to hide. They no longer went to _the Mullet_ for knife throwing classes or even came to the mock games that our school throws every year. I can only imagine what is going through her head right now.

Her grey eyes drip wet tears that stream down her porcelain face as she climbs up the stage, barley holding onto her sanity.

_She must know I'm going to volunteer for her. She must._

Persephone's voice the devours the mild cheering that has began to fill the square. "Okay, do we have any volunteers?"

My hand shoots up high in the sky before she can even finish her sentence. Everyone in the square turns in my way, their eyes almost mesmerized by the presence of my hand. "I volunteer as tribute," I say raising my voice above all the whispers I hear from the crowd.

"Wonderful!" Persephone says clapping her hands with excitement.

The crowd parts way allowing me to move towards the stage, but the pathway soon closes up behind me. Their loud hollers now blend into the background as I move along the path. Peace keepers surround me on all sides, their bodies making a sturdy wall between me and the world. I almost trip on a crack in the stone, but quickly steady myself before reaching the stage. Persephone reaches for my hand and gently glides me over to the podium.

I can see Mirabel wiping her misty eyes as she steps away from the podium. She grabs my hand and gives it a quick squeeze as she walks by. My eyes follow her as she glides down the stairs and off the stage without a sound. Her quiet feet barley make a tap. The camera now faces me, though I can't peel my eyes away from her as she disappears into the crowd. Her cheeks now glisten as the suns rays hit their wet surface. Almost like sparkles.

Persephone's voice finally pulls me away.

"What's your name?" she asks in her high pitched capitol accent.

"Clove Ellison" I answer triumphantly.

The crowd goes wild. Screaming and grunting, and pumping their fists but it quickly settles to a quiet beating of hands.

"Okay! And now for the boys."

All clapping stops as nerves overpower the crowd. Nervous tapping, sweating, and heavy breathing. Even from up here I can see all the guys fidgeting.

I remember there was some talk at school about how a number of boys were thinking about volunteering, but I don't know for certain. For all I know they could have all chickened out by now. A lot of times they do. Guys always seem to think they're stronger than us, but I've learned it doesn't matter what they think. They're wrong.

Persephone's hand reaches into the bowl and pinches a single card between her delicate fingers before moving back to the podium. As she opens stickers the seal I can feel everyone stop breathing, including me. It's not the same kind as before but definitely still nerve wracking.

I press my lips together hard hoping that the camera's are pointing somewhere else right now. I look up and see my face on the screen and instantly tense up. _Maybe it won't be that bad_, I try to tell myself. _Maybe I won't even know him._

I had almost forgotten about Persephone until she clears her throat. It's so soft I almost didn't catch it but I guess she did that was on purpose. I'll admit that some things in the Capitol are cool, but obsessing over how a cough sounds to me is a little much.

"Dax Larkspur."

My heart settles a little. _Not bad I could deal with killing him._ I mean, I've seen him a little around the North Village a little, but then again everyone in the district knows each other. A couple glances were probably the closest we've ever been.

He obviously doesn't see the reaping the way I do. By the time he joins me on stage his eyes are puffy and his face looks like a tomato. _Okay, so maybe this will be really easy._

"Well then," Persephone says looking at the blubbering red mess beside me and spreads a fake smile across her lips. She's obviously just as disgusted with his break down as I am. It's pathetic. "Do we have any volunteers?"

She looks at the crowd almost desperate. All her friends in the Capitol must be having a good laugh right now. At least it make me look good by comparison. For a second the crowd is quiet in anticipation. I let out a deep breath, but it's all too soon. _And the winner is..._

Just as I am finishing my thought horror washes over me as I see a hand raise in the air.

"I volunteer as tribute," the boy says in a strong booming voice, his hand still raised in the air.

My heart stops. _I know him._ No, not only catching a glimpse from opposite sides of the sidewalk but actually knowing each other. When we were younger we used to compete at the Mullet. He knows how to handle a spear, that's for sure. He's almost as good as I am with my knives. Almost.

We've only actually talked a couple times but it doesn't take much for him to make an impression. Let's just say he's a little intense. He's strong, not weak. He's confident, not shy and self loathing. He's arrogant, but brave and smart, but a little unhinged. That's what I like about him though, that he never gives in no matter what. It's the one thing I aspire to do.

He walks up onto the stage with his head held high and his muscles flexing as his arms sway by his sides. When he reaches me he crosses his arms and sets his feet shoulder length apart. I tense up a little, but nothing prepares me for what comes next. He looks at me, scanning me up and down, and gives me a head shake and pitiful smile, like somehow I was the weak one. _Now this is going to be more difficult._


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as the anthem ends we are taken into custody and lead into the justice building. It's a large building that sits in the middle of the main square. It isn't nearly as beautiful as the Capitol, but it's probably close. The entire floor of the building is clean-cut black and white marble, swirling on the ground like unmixed chocolate milk. The walls are a textured deep forest green up until a white stone molding juts out at the top and bottom. Seamless white silk curtains hang from every window, each pulled back by a shiny gold chain. It's such a large room that my footsteps echo as my heels hit the solid floor.

The air is so much cooler inside, almost drafty. Much better than outside standing in the hot summer sun. I am guided down a long narrow hallway that looks like it won't ever end. Then, halfway through the peacekeeper in front of me stops and the two behind me gesture me into a small room before closing the dark mahogany door behind me. My eyes travel along the walls trying to find the significance in this room, but can't seem to find one. The same marble floors carry through from underneath the door and dark mahogany walls wrap around the room like a stiff wooden blanket. Only two fancy green velvet chairs and paisley chaise sit in the middle of the floor.

I turn my head towards the open window that lets in the slightest breeze and rays of sunlight. As I look at the almost blindingly bright sun Cato's face pops into my head. His glowing blue eyes that make my face turn green. _That way he looked at me. What was that?_ Just thinking about it made me shiver. _No. I will not be made look weak. I will not be made to look like something I'm not. If he wants a game then so be it._ A wicked grin spreads my lips. _Let the 74th Hunger Games begin._

* * *

I stare out the window for a while, the gentle breeze blowing the ends of my pony-tale at a steady pulse. All of a sudden the opens and a peacekeeper stands in the doorway.

"Miss Ellison, you have visitors," he says in a deep voice of someone seeming much older than his appearance. His lips barely move as he speaks. He takes a step back and my mother comes running in like it's the first time we've seen each other in years. She tugs me towards her and forces my head into the crook of her neck.

"Oh, darling, I'm so proud of you!" she says twisting me around, squeezing me tighter with each turn. "We're so proud of you!" she says correcting herself and stepping back just enough for me to see my father's face. His expression says he's sorry even though I know he's not.

I make an escape attempt from my mothers arms and quickly wrap my own around my father. I close my eyes, breathing in his scent, almost like a fresh rain. Not fancy, but not dirty either. Just comforting. Just perfect. I glance to my mother for a moment, her face says she's hurt, but she'll get over it. I've always been a daddy's girl anyways. Her hand then gently settles on my back. We stand there, not moving, for a moment but eventually my dad moves away and places both hands on my shoulders. He has this stern look in his eyes, something I've never seen before.

"Look at me. This is important, okay?" he says.

I nod my head.

"Okay, so there are 24 of you out there. Not that bad considering your skills, but you need to get a knife. Don't trust anyone, got it? Take your mentors advice to make an alliance with the other stronger tribute, but don't get attached. Always put yourself first. There's only one victor, and it's gonna be you. At the training center you want to show what you've got, okay? Do whatever it takes to make them look. And most important, no matter what, remember what the goal is. Stay alive. No matter what you do, stay alive. No matter how hurt you are, stay alive. No matter how many friends you have to kill, stay alive. Got it?" His face stiffens and for a minute I feel isolated, like the only warm thing in the room is gone. I've been training for the last four years for this but somehow having it all come out of his mouth makes it real.

_No matter what happens I'm going to survive. No matter what happens it's me coming out of that arena._

I nod my head. "Got it!"

The second I say that his face relaxes and he pulls me back into his arms. It's only a couple of seconds before the peacekeeper come and signal our time is up. He releases me and cups my neck, kissing my forehead. My mother stands behind him too choked up to speak.

"We love you sweetheart. See you soon!" she says as the peacekeepers shut the door behind them.

_Slam!_ Silence quickly overpowers the room. A single tear drips down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. _Not now. Not today. Not ever again._

Only a few minutes later the door pops open and the peacekeeper once again opens the door.

"Another visitor, Miss," he says, his face still appearing numb beneath the shaded glass of his mask.

A smile spreads across my face as I see who steps into the room.

"I knew you could do it," Terra says.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah well that was the easy part. Now I have to actually win."

"I'm sure that will be just as easy. If anyone can do it it's you. You know my aunt says it's not that different from the course at the mullet."

Her aunt, Lorem, won a couple of decades back. It's really amazing how much they look alike considering how different they are. Terra seems more like a feminine and frail girl but Lorem is different. Even now she looks intimidating, but back in her games she was vicious. The story goes that it was getting to the end of games and she was the one to beat. There were only two scrawny guys and a girl who was already slowly bleeding to death in the woods left. The gamekeepers filled the arena with smoke and released a muttation. In panic all except the girl ran to the Cornucopia. She died minutes later. Lorem ran as fast as she could but the others were only a little behind her so she made a quick decision and turned around. She ran right at them screaming as grabbed two swords from a latch in her belt. She took the first one and threw it at the one on the right. The mutt was just about to pounce on him so when the sword punctured him it killed the mutt with him. The cannon blew before they even hit the ground. She continued running and just as the other was about to swing his knife Lorem chopped his head clean off.

"You'll be fine," Terra insists squeezing my shoulders. "You always are. Now your only problem is Cato."

"What about him?" I ask clueless yet defensive.

"He's practically a dream boat," she said dropping down onto the chaise. "Helloooo, distraction." She twirls her hair trying to act like one of those desperate girls from the neighboring village where all they care about is looks.

"Ugh," I said jokingly whacking the arm and plopping next to her on the couch. "He is not a distraction. He is just another bump in the road on the way to my victory. You'll see, he's gonna lose BIG!"

"I look forward to it," she laughs, but her smile goes away when she sees the peacekeeper signal that our time is up. "See you in a couple of weeks," she says giving me a hug before exiting the room, the doors slamming behind her.

* * *

It's a short ride from the Justice Building to the train station, but it is very uncomfortable. I sit in the red velvet covered back seat of the small shiny black car with Persephone and Cato. The entire inside is covered in metallic gold that seems to change my face in every angle I look at. The streets are crowed with people just trying to get a look at us, their fingers smudging against the glass windows of the car as we slowly drive by. The station is swarming with reporters, everyone wanting to get the biggest scoop on this years District 2 tributes.

We have to stand in the doorway of the train for a couple of minutes while the cameras take so many pictures I can't even tell where to look. Reporters are everywhere yelling random questions.

"Clove what's your strategy?"

"What makes you better than other tributes this year?"

"What do you think of the District 12 tribute this year? Any threat?"

After about ten minute of this charade Persephone escorts us into the train because, _"We have a tight schedule to keep."_

I give one more wave as the door mercifully closes behind us. The train begins to move almost as soon as the door shuts and we're off to the Capitol, _finally._ It looks a lot like the ones they have at the Main Mountain. They use them for transporting important people and other things in and out of the Main Mountain along with the hovercrafts. On the outside they look almost like mini futuristic toasters, but the inside is a whole other game. I always imagined what they would look like on the inside, and I guess this is it.

The walls are covered with textured powder blue wallpaper and lined with crystal white trim. As soon as you enter tables topped with all different kinds of sweets meet you before becoming the dining hall. In the center is a dark ebony table with gold borders. On top is a matching gold vase filled with big but delicate pink flowers, set in the middle for all to see. Matching fine silverware and dishes are set up at each place setting just ready for one of our hungry mouths to dive into the feast.

I pluck a round strawberry filled chocolate off the sterling silver sweets tray and plop down into an almost silky leather couch next to Cato. He leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees, looking intensely at Brutus and Enobaria who sit across from us in large crescent-shaped royal blue chairs. She leans back with her feet crossed on the coffee table in front of her. Brutus sits stiffly in a similar position to Cato. We all just stay like that for a minute until Persephone comes out of the another room with a tray full of bright green colored drinks lined with sugar along the rims of the skinny glasses they occupy. She gives two to Brutus and Enobaria who both sit up once it's in their hands. She hands me a glass and I hold it while trying to use the aroma as a clue to what it might be. She finally gives one to Cato who barely moves while grasping its thin stem.

"To Cato and Clove!" she says raising her glass, almost shaking with excitement. "Was that a reaping or what? Two volunteers! We'll be all the Capitol can talk about!" I look at her trying to tell if she's serious. I mean, who ever said she was part of _we?_

"I don't know about that. I mean, District 12 has a volunteer this year. The first time in history," Brutus says. Cato sits up for this news. A large vein in his neck pulses with anger. "Everyone seems to be talking about her."

Enobaria grabs the remote from the almost invisible glass table and turns on the television. Some girl flashes onto the screen. She has dark brown hair braided up somehow behind her head and medium toned skin with freckles beneath her persisting grey eyes. There is a power in them, a fire. It shows footage of her sister, a scared little blonde girl, getting picked and then the girl volunteering for her sister. She breaks through a group of peacekeepers to hug her before taking the stage. I think her name is Catnisp, Kaniss, or Catnus.

"Katniss Everdeen. She volunteered for her sister and now that's all the anyone can talk about," Enobaria says clenching her sharpened teeth.

"I've seen better," I say under my breath, but no one seems to hear me.

"Well I think Cato and Clove have a chance," Persephone says resting her bottom on the arm of Brutus' chair, and placing her slender arm behind his back while trying not to spill the drop of drink that still lays in the dip of her glass. "That Katniss is so simple. She'll never last a day in the Capitol. I mean, a girl who sacrificed herself for the life of someone else." She gasps. "Oh! That would make an amazing movie!" she says.

I roll my eyes. "She doesn't seem that special to me. Just an ugly attention hog," I say.

"She's just a phase," Cato says, his face breaking out of the stone it's been held in since sitting down. "Once she gets to the Capitol she'll snap like a twig."

Persephone leans over and whispers something in Brutus' ear, her seductive candy pink lips almost brushing against his ear. His face turns from stressed to oddly relaxed in less than a second. She then grabs his hand and leads him out of the room, his eyes on her ass the entire time. The door slides shut and I hear some quiet laughs before silence.

Enobaria keeps her eyes focused on us, like she's almost immune to their promiscuous activity. "Okay, well, now that we're talking about the Capitol, when we get there you will meet with your stylists and create a strategy for your interview. Brutus and I will contact the mentors of the other stronger tributes. You two will form an alliance with them and stick to it.

This is what my father was talking about. Every year the stronger tributes group up to get rid of the weak-links before etching each other out. That's when things really get interesting. One year when tensions got high one male tribute even beheaded two of his fellow allies. Another one of the allies, a girl from District 4 I think, saw the whole thing and went totally crazy. If it weren't for the arena being flooded he probably would have won. Like I said, anything can happen. I predict an event even more spectacular than that when I win. The whole Capitol will fall at my feet when they see all the things I do to the unfortunate people put in the arena with me. Especially that Catpiss girl.

"Understood?" Enobaria asks the both of us and I finally zoom back into the situation at hand. We both nod out heads, almost in unison and she shows a slight grin, almost pleased. "Okay, now, Brutus and I have talked it over and we think that you two should team up with the pair from District 1, the girl female from District 4, and the male from District 11."

"District 11?" Cato asks in disbelief. She apparently is not amused.

"Yes, District 11. His name is Thresh and he's worthy of his name. He's one of the oldest of the bunch, strong, large and angry. All desired qualities when looking for an ally," she says looking at him annoyed by his arrogance. Cato huffs irately, but that just gets Enobaria even more mad. She stands up and looks real close at Cato, her sharp teeth exposed through her snarl.

"Hey!" she yells. "I'm doing this for you! This isn't just some game you play in the schoolyard. If you don't want to die then you two are going to listen to us. I'm placing an offer on Thresh and the others. You're just gonna have to get over it." She stands up and picks up another of what I assume is an alcoholic beverage before storming into the next car.

"Yeah right," he grunts as the door slides shut. "Like I'm gonna team up with daisy and the dirt." He gets up from the couch and points at the TV even though there's nothing on the screen. His face is red with anger as he paces around the car.

"What do you mean?" I ask him confused.

"Oh, come on," he grunts. "Do you really think Mr. District 11 is good enough to be an ally of a future victor?" He shakes his head and looks at the floor. "And who would have thought that a tribute from District 2 would be such a pansy."

"Hey, I got here the same way you did," I say suddenly defensive. He scoffs, not really paying attention to anything I'm saying. He looks so arrogant and snotty as he travels around the room again and again like a dog looking for his tale. "Oh yeah? What makes you so much better?"

"I'm not weak," he screams. His forehead is so wrinkled with anger that it almost looks like a dried up grape. "Look, I don't care what the two of them say. I'm not going around the arena with a four year old strapped on my back. You're either gonna listen to me or consider yourself dead. This is a serious game and if you go down you're going alone. Got it?" His eyes narrow as he gives me a death stare with such intensity it feels like his gaze is burning my skin.

"No," I say firmly. This takes him back a bit. He calms down a little in the state of confusion. My guess is that he always gets his way. I quickly push myself out of the couch and look him dead in the eye, suddenly filled with not only annoyance, but anger. _I am not a weak-link._ "I'm not going to be pushed around by some _minor obstacle._ You don't know anything about me, so stop acting like you do." I swiftly grab a pen from the table and lob it at the wall behind his head so hard and perfect that it sticks in the smooth seemingly impenetrable wall. It flies about an inch away from his ear and even though he tries to hide it, he flinches a little as it almost instantly imbeds itself in the wall. "Don't underestimate me," I say picking up another pen and taping it against his nose just enough for it to give him a blue dot on his left nostril. "That was your first mistake." I give him a sly grimace, shove the pen in his hand, and walk out of the room without turning back.


	4. Chapter 4

The door to my room slides open automatically as I approach it. The room is almost empty. Only a few pieces of furniture and trinkets lay on its plush crystal white carpet that feels like silk beneath my feet. The elegant sage green walls are almost shiny enough to see a figure of myself in its shimmery lacquer. I walk over to the bed, its shape covered in fine linens, and curl up in its soft self, letting its warmth devour me and every thought I own at the moment. Nothing else matters but sleep.

It feels like no time at all when I hear a knock at the door.

_Tap, tap, tap._

I lift my head from the silky pillow and see Persephone standing in the doorway.

"Your designated lounging time is over. We're having tea in the dining room if you care to join us. We should be arriving in the Capitol soon," she says before shutting the door softly.

I moan, prying myself out of the bed. I sit on the edge of it, my slim tanned hairless legs hanging over the side. I look down in complete silence for a minute, in body and mind, before getting up and walking over to the bathroom that sits off my room. Everything in the room is gold from the waterfall sink to the seemingly floating toilet. The walls are so reflective there is almost no need for a mirror, though one hangs over the sink anyways.

I rest my hands on the corners of the sink and take two deep breaths before looking in the mirror. I stare at myself for a minute, my eyes traveling around the edges of my face. An image of me lobbing the pen pops into my mind. The smooth texture slides against my skin as it slips out of my fingers and deep into the wall. Cato flinches as the dull tip makes contact with the wood. My dark brown eyes narrow in the mirror and all I can see is the end, with only me ahead. A conniving smile sweeps across my face, because I hold all the cards. _Whatever he though was wrong. He was going down. They all were._

* * *

My tall black peep-toe high-heeled shoes take tiny little steps in the plush carpet as I make my way through each car. The long train of my emerald-green one shouldered dress trails behind me, the luxurious material gently skimming across the floor. My hair lays in loose curls at my shoulders and down my back. The prickly ends tickle my neck as I walk down the narrow way and to the dining car where everyone else sits waiting for me. Most of them are already halfway through their supper, the fine plates before them only showing picked away bread pudding and left over sauce from the finished off prime cut beef. They keep up a polite and quiet chatter between themselves, but it doesn't sound that interesting from what I can hear.

I place my bottom in a chair between Persephone and Cato. Brutus and Enobaria sit across from us, all of them dressed in their finest clothes, ready to arrive in the Capitol in less than fifteen minutes. I try to pay attention to their quiet words, but my eyes slowly drift to my plate in boredom. I cut up the butter-like beef and stick the small flavor-filled pieces in my mouth.

"Apparently the girl from nine tried to run away," Enobaria says giggling a little to herself. "They had to restrain her before carrying her up on stage."

"She's probably scared," Brutus says almost sympathetic for a moment, but then he speaks again. "I mean, she knows she's just gonna get slaughtered out there."

"Ugh, people from out there just don't understand. It's just entertainment. Death is only part of it. I mean, they get to be on television," Daphne says taking a swig of purple alcoholic beverage. "They all just need to calm down a little. Give it a few years. The entire country will be into the games by then."

Just as the words leave her bluely glossed lips the train car goes black, everything does. I inhale deeply as the emptiness hits me like a brick wall. I refuse to admit fear, but it definitely startles me. All I can see is the white of everyone's blinking eyes as the train paces along the tracks. After a few minutes the train finally begins to slow and suddenly bright light floods through the entire car. We're in the Capitol. It's just like I always imagined it. Rich socialites stroll along the streets without a care in the world, each one dressed in elaborate clothes more colorful and expensive than I have ever seen. I get up from my seat and move over to the window in shock.

_I mean, knew there were going to be a lot of people, but this is ridiculous._

Small shiny little cars sprinkle across the highway like candy chips, each one of them going so fast they I can barely see the shape of them. Glass towers line the city with their seamless sparkling structures. Odd looking unique buildings seem to be everywhere, flaunting their fine hand carved details and superiority compared to others. The people begin to point at us eagerly as they recognize a tribute train rolling into the city and flock to the space below the train like birds, following the seemingly endless elevated tracks that practically float above them. The entire scene is almost overwhelming. Cato soon joins me at the window as I begin to wave at my gracious followers currently losing their minds over us.

"Take it in," Persephone smiles. "It's all for you."

* * *

The Training Center has a tower designed exclusively for the tributes and their teams. This will be our home until the real games begin. Each district has an entire floor. You simply step onto an elevator and press the number of your district. Easy enough to remember. The walls of the elevator are crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air. We aren't that high up though, only the second floor. I cringe at the thought that the dirty little know it all, Catpiss, gets the penthouse suite.

Apparently Persephone's duties did not end at the station. Her, Enobaria, and Brutus will be overseeing us right into the arena. I guess that explains why after all these years of her and Brutus having to come here together they're so _close._

"Okay," she says, stepping into the room with her seven inch high heels. They look almost like a torture device. She wears an extremely low cut cream blouse with the sleeves so puffed up with air they could just as well be balloons. An equally puffy short green skirt barely covers her bottom. Black claw shaped high heel shoes cover her feet, each one sporting a long black feather that reaches all the way to the crooks of her knees. A small black lacy veil dotted with matching gems lays on her head of intricately placed curls. "Oh, I never get sick of this place," she gushes.

The space is breathtaking. As soon as you walk in tall Roman columns meet you at the elevator, creating an entryway into the open room. The floors are seamless marble and the ceilings reach almost two stories into the air. Every wall is a glossy white color. Once stepping inside the extensive space, a formal dining room decked out in silky black tables and green chairs that look like caterpillars stand at the far away left and an antique living space covered in eccentric furniture rests in the opposite corner. The large center of the room is empty for people like me to stand from afar and gawk at the masterpiece that is our suit.

Brutus and Enobaria casually waltz over to the sitting area and place themselves on the velvet periwinkle couch. The edges of it are rimmed with dark wood and the bases of each support twist into a claw like a fancy tub. They continue the argument they've been having since arriving in the Capitol, _who is going to be whose mentor?_

Cato stands behind me, his cold blue eyes tracing me. I can't quite read his thoughts, but just having him there discomforts me. He inches closer, his shoulder almost touching mine.

"I'm not gonna say that I'm sorry. I've ever been sorry in my life. I am gonna say that I misjudged you. Maybe you aren't just a pansy," he admits, gritting his teeth with annoyance. I turn to him and frown slightly.

"Well, your still an ass."

He smirks at me. "That's a little harsh."

"Yeah, well, get used to it, cause trust me, I've thought way worse."

"Oh, do we think we're dangerous? Standing up to the big strong Cato?" he mocks. "You better be careful. I may have underestimated you, but it looks like the tables are about to turn." He clenches his jaw. He is no longer in the mood for my truthful humor, is guess. _Too bad._

"Nope. I think I've got you right where I want you. You're an arrogant son of a bitch with a mouth that's going to get you into some trouble. I suggest you stay away from me, but make sure to keep that smug little smile on your face. Enobaria still wants us to team up with the strong tributes, so we can just call her letting you into the group as a lapse in judgment," I say. "I mean, worst case, you can just carry me through the arena."

His eyes light up with annoyance. _Oh, I'm making him dance. This ought to be fun._ He licks his lips and I can see him going towards another direction of supposed taunting in his head, but I've already thought of a counter move. I let him play along, of course. This trip will be long and boring as hell without some entertainment.

He steps closer towards me and places his long fingers around the curve of my hips. I can feel his hot breath on my neck.

"You know, you're very difficult," he says slowly, obviously trying to make me swoon, but I quickly flip his move on its head.

I turn towards him and slide my hand gently against his cheek. He smirks slightly. I slowly place my other hand on his chest, one finger at a time, and skim it down his torso slightly. I raise my sinful lips to his ear and pause a moment, letting him rest in the tension I've created. My lightly glossed lips twitch with a grin as I whisper slowly in his ear.

"You have no idea."

* * *

**A/N: As I write, I usually write one scene at a time and sometimes post a section before the entire chapter is done so if you feel that your missing some just check a later chapter.** **I usually try to post at least one section at a time because that way I can keep all of my fan fictions on track as well. Feel free to check them out. Thanks for understanding. You're all the best. -amazinglilli :)**


	5. Chapter 5

My back floats on the surface of a large river the sky above me a deep navy color. The pigment replicates itself all around me to mask the transparent liquid. Water laps at my ears. My arms and toes are succumb to the wetness that flows as far as any eye can see, that is, if there was anyone around. I am completely alone. Everything is silent. I can only hear the echoing water as it dips in and out of my eardrums like a reluctant hand from a cookie jar. It reaches in, but just as it just about grasps the prize, it pulls itself away, before continuing the restless torcher once more. Everything is quiet and peaceful. My body starts to dip deeper and deeper into the

Then, all of a sudden, some kind of air pocket underneath me rushes me back up to the surface. My back arches and my arms sink from the amount of force. My eyes open wide.

I'm in my room at the training center.

There's a rattling sound that comes from outside the door, almost like a spinning top. A giggle follows. My forehead creases between my eyebrows and I get up from the soft comfort of the mattress. I lean my head into the door so that I can almost hear its grains whispering to each other as they weave throughout the wood. There's a thud and another set of giggles. I crack the door open slightly an peek my left eye through the hole.

Nothing.

I open it further so that I can squeeze out. It creaks slightly, but only enough so that I can hear it. I cringe anyways.

My feet tiptoe on the cold marble floor until I can see the intruders fully. The girl is a tall blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a naturally flirtatious giggle, like she doesn't even have to try. The first boy I see has matching features. A small amount of stubble lines his chin and dusts a hint of his upper lip. They could be siblings, but there is only one pair of those and they belong to District 1. The third of them looks a few years older than the girl. His hair is short and curly to contrast with the scruffy dark beard that runs across the bottom side of his face. A dull cigarette hangs from between his pursed lips and he dangles a short cup of whiskey from his thumb and pointer finger.

"Are you kidding me? She was hanging on your every word," the blonde said, in a mocking tone. _"Oh, Noble, your skin is like butterscotch, sweet. Let me pay you! Please, let me pay you!"_

"Cut it out, Armella," he complains, annoyed. "You know I don't do that."

"I don't know what you have on Snow, Noble, but you better hold onto it because when that leverage ends, so does your life," the smoker warns, blowing a puff of carcinogens into the air.

His foot steps so that it's right in front of me. I jump back slightly. His face is turned towards the others, in front of him, so he can't see me. He grasps the stem of the cigarette between his long fingers and blows another puff out. It blows right into my face. I cough slightly.

All three of them turn around immediately.

"What are you doing?" he asks, not surprised at all.

"I-I heard noises. They said you wouldn't be here until tomorrow," I explain.

He laughs. "I wouldn't trust a word they say. They never tell you the truth unless it benefits themselves," he says, his voice full of disgust."The others should be here by the morning. They'rs till out... having fun," he adds. His face scrunches up, like he's tasted something bitter. The blonde girl swats at his arm and raises her eyebrows, warning him to keep the secret that they share.

"I'm Armella," she introduces. "This is Gray. He has no filter, which is why they never choose him to mentor," she explains, her eyebrows lifting as she looks at him. They obviously have something to hide, but I doubt it's that interesting.

"And I'm Noble," the blonde boy says, smiling without exposing his teeth, like he too is holding something back. I see it in all of them. There is something in the room that I'm not seeing, something big, something blocking any progression in conversation.

Gray shakes his head slightly, inhaling the toxins of his cigarette. When his fingers help unplug the stick from his lips his cheeks deflate. His face looks hollow. She takes it from his hand and uses it once herself, taking a deep breath when the smoke reaches her lungs.

A question pops into my head and I speak, before really thinking my words through. "Why do you smoke?"

Gray smiles crookedly, like he admires my audacity and curiosity of the subject. "Why not?" he answers, simply. "We live in a toxic world filled with toxic people and toxic things. Why not accept it? We're all gonna die eventually, one way or another, trapped in the fucked up hell that we call_ life_. At least this way I get to go first."

He grins a wide tooth smile, but I don't think he's kidding. Neither does Armella. She murmurs that they should go. He turns towards their hallway and shuffles away. Halfway down, he takes another puff of smoke, letting it seep out from between his teeth slowly, saving every second he can.

* * *

**A/N: There is more to come. I've been away from my fan fics for a while so it might take a week to get back to his one. Stay tuned and check back. **


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